Is Esther Religious Fiction?

The book of Esther is viewed today by a majority of scholars as non-historical. Yet the story itself is recounted candidly, and there is nothing within it to suggest that it is fictional. Mir­acles or other “impossible” occurrences are totally absent. Critical scholars are bothered, however, by apparent exaggerations or suspected inaccuracies:

The six months of perfuming with oil and the additional six months of beautifying with spices (2:12) seem extreme.

The book claims that there were 127 Persian provinces (1:1), while the historian Herodotus speaks of only 20.

The notion of a Persian decree being irrevocable (1:19; 8:9) is regarded as doubtful—but see Daniel 6.

Planning for a massacre of Jews a year in advance (Est 3:8-15) strikes scholars as unlikely.

It seems too coincidental that Haman would turn out to be a descendant of Agag the Amalekite, the enemy of Israel who cost Saul his crown (3:1;see1Sa15).

Contrary to the Biblical account, Herodotus identified Xerxes’ queen as Amestris, not Vashti.

Although the name Mordecai and that of Haman’s son Parshandatha (Est 9:7) are attested elsewhere during the Persian period, Xerxes is the only indisputable historical figure in the book.

Archaeological data from the Persian period has not specifi­cally confirmed the story’s historicity.

Thus, Esther is often read as a satire addressing the needs of Jews outside of the Holy Land. Yet these challenges, though not insignificant, are not in fact as overwhelming as they might first appear:

The apparent exaggerations may be a result of narrative tech­nique. The 180-day banquet may have been primarily a gather­ing of leaders to strategize the Greek invasion.2 Similarly, the six-month preparation periods for the women were probably also intended for training in court decorum and protocol. The author apparently wished to highlight the splendor of the Persian court, but this does not signify that the events were manufactured.

The discrepancy in the number of provinces in the empire is founded on the notion that the Greek satrapeia (in Herodotus) and the Hebrew medinah (in Esther) mean the same thing, but this has not been established. The higher figure in Esther may refer to smaller subdivisions.

The idea that a royal decree was irrevocable is not docu­mented outside the Bible, but this is probably best understood as a matter of royal etiquette and/or tradition—not as formal law.

Regarding the length of time needed to plan a pogrom, two facts stand out. First, such a matter would require time and plan­ning, given the size and makeup of the empire. Second, it is entirely credible that a man of the ancient world would cast lots to determine an auspicious day for following through with such apian.

The text does not state that Haman was descended from the Agag of 1 Samuel 15.The meaning of “Agagite” in Esther is actu­ally unknown.

It is possible that the queen Herodotus called Amestris was in fact Esther, since the two names appear to be linguistically related (others suggest that Amestris is to be equated with Vashti).

There are remarkable similarities between the book’s state­ments about fifth-century Persia and what is known about that country and society from archaeology. That the author had more than a casual knowledge of Persian life during this period is displayed in his references to Persian vocabulary and customs as well as in his awareness that the king had seven advisors (Est 1:14), that eating was undertaken while reclining on couches (7:8) and that royal horses could wear crowns (6:8).

It is rare for archaeology to provide direct evidence for a his­torical event. More often, reconstructing ancient history is a mat­ter of combining the stories found in texts with the artifacts discovered in archaeology, though such work always requires a measure of confidence in the reliability of the texts. If every nar­rative from the ancient world had to be specifically confirmed by archaeology, we would have no ancient history at all.

The book of Esther makes strong implicit claims to being his­torical. It is precisely as history that Esther is most significant; it marks the beginning of the long, sad saga of pogroms and holo­causts against the Jews.